


The minor fall and the major lift

by LiviKate



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Misunderstandings, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, because of course
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 17:45:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8587918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiviKate/pseuds/LiviKate
Summary: “Whatever that was, whatever you want, I can’t do it,” he said, and his words were wooden and blank, like he’d rehearsed them in his head, saying them over and over again to make them true.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Hallelujah by Jeff Buckley/ Leonard Cohen

“I can’t do this,” were not the words Derek expected to hear when he swung his way into Stiles’ window at two in the morning. “Go away, I’m already asleep,” was the usual one, there was the memorable “No squirrels, more acorns,” sleep talking incident, and there was often just a soft smile, blue-lit from his computer screen and a gentle “Hey, Derek.”

The smile on his face turned plastic at the words he was greeted with instead. He took in a breath, to ask a question, though he wasn’t sure what it would’ve been. He smelled the air, the stench of misery lying thick in the room. Stiles was lying flat on his bed, fully dressed, not sleeping but still, as if he was weighed down by the weight of his sadness.

“Whatever that was, whatever you want, I can’t do it,” he said, and his words were wooden and blank, like he’d rehearsed them in his head, saying them over and over again to make them true.

“Stiles, what?” he asked, shocked, trying to understand how they’d gotten here. Just this morning, he was leaving, easing himself out of the window, the smell of Stiles, sleepy and warm, still clinging to his skin. He could still feel the burning memory of Stiles’ hands on him, he could still feel his heart beating double time at the taste of the boy. He’d left, in the morning, wolf just barely under the skin, needing to run and think and process. Everything had felt so possible the night before, he’d finally allowed himself joy again, loving without feeling guilty. He never thought he’d have that again.

“I just can’t, Derek, I’m sorry,” Stiles said, sounding a little damp. He turned his face to the side, farther from Derek, and the wolf didn’t know what to do. He thought he’d finally had something good again.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, needing more from him. He hovered in the middle of the room, afraid to move forward but not willing to move back just yet. “Was it, was it not what you wanted?” He knew it hadn’t lasted long, but he couldn’t control himself, not with Stiles’ smell thick in his nose, his smooth skin under his hands, his taste in his mouth.

“It was everything I’ve ever wanted,” Stiles said, so quietly, like he was speaking to the feathers in his pillow. “That’s why I can’t let myself just have this.”

“Yes, you can,” Derek said urgently, stepping towards the bed, finally motivated by a problem he could fix. “You can have this, you deserve this,” he said surely, having decided the same thing himself that day. “If I can let myself, then you can.”

Stiles laughed, a coughing noise that sounded like it hurt.

“That’s why I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s selfish, because I know how much you’ve been through. But it hurts so fucking bad.”

“I hurt you?” Derek asked, panicked, scenting the air for blood and not finding any. Derek hadn’t thought he’d hurt him, but he could’ve been careless with his claws or gripped him too tightly. He sat on the edge of the bed, hands just hovering over Stiles’ side.

“No, Derek, it’s just,” he began, turning his head to look at the wolf with eyes that were red and crushed. “I can’t do this with you. Not when I love you so much. I can’t just have _this_. And I know it’s not fair of me to ask you for anything more, not when you’ve been hurt before in so many different ways. But, God, Derek, I feel like I’m dying. I haven’t been able to breathe, my heart literally hurts, and I just can’t do this. Not again, I can’t.”

“I don’t understand,” Derek said, brows creased, feeling his shoulders creep up in a defensive reflex. If Stiles loved him, why was he pushing him away?

“I’m sorry,” Stiles said, squeezing his eyes shut. “But I can’t just have part of you.” When he met Derek’s eyes again, his lashes were wet and clumped.

“You can have all of me,” Derek promised, flattening a hand to the human’s chest, fragile but so full of strength.

“Stop,” he begged brokenly, pulling himself to seated, pulling away from his touch. “I can’t do this. I love you,” he said, voice getting louder, some life returning to his feature. “Don’t you get it? I love you. I have for years,” he said, flinging the words at Derek like they were supposed to hurt him, too. “So I can’t just be someone you fuck when you feel like it. I can’t just be with you, and then _not._ I love you too much.”

“But I love you, too,” Derek said, like it was obvious, and wasn’t it? Was there any question that there could be any other thing inside him? There was no room for anything else, his whole being was in love with the boy.

Stiles blinked at him, wetly, lashes clinging together in the low light.

“What?”

“I love you, it’s okay,” Derek said, reaching for his hands, a small smile of his face when Stiles’ let him.

“But you left,” Stiles said, staring at their joined hands like he couldn’t believe that it was real.

“I texted you,” Derek defended. Stiles gave him a flat look.

“You told me you had a good time but needed your space. That’s “thanks, but no thanks” language.”

“I told you I’d come back to talk,” Derek defended, feeling wrong footed and guilty all over again.

“You said you’d be back tonight to see me again. That’s more bootycall talk.”

“You are not a booty call,” Derek said sincerely, part of him resenting that he even had to say as much out loud. But when Stiles’ shoulders sagged and he wiped a hand over his face, looking taken aback and shocked, Derek realized that maybe that hadn’t been obvious either.

“You love me?” Stiles asked, incredulously.

“Yes,” Derek said simply.

“Seriously?” Stiles asked, and Derek rolled his eyes. “No, I mean are you serious. Because I love you. Like more than I can even say, and this past day, thinking that all I’d have of you would be a little sex, it has been the worst of my life. So do not fuck around with me. I can’t handle it.”

“I love you,” Derek assured him, pulling his hand to his lips and leaving a kiss there.

“You could’ve stayed until I woke up,” Stiles said, but there was a little laughter back into his voice, and though his eyes were still damp, they shone happily for him.

“I’ll stay as long as you want.”


End file.
